Something There - A Newsies Story
by Wishes Of A Dying Giant
Summary: Cinnamon is different from all the other newsies: Cinnamon is a girl, and has been masquerading as a boy for six years. Only one newsie knows her secret: Crutchie, and he's only known for a small amount of time. Soon, the other newsies will know something's up. Oh, and another thing? Crutchie and Cinnamon have developed feelings for each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Side Note!  
Just to remind you: All the newsies (save Davey) speak with a New York accent. Just keep that in mind.**

 **And no, I don't own Newsies or anything. Just to make that clear.**

 **Okay - on with the show! Or fanfic, in this case.**

Chapter One: Oh, What A Fine Life

Cinnamon didn't want to get up.

"Oi Cinnamon! Time to rise an' shine an' hit the streets!" Specs kept nudging to the point where Cinnamon practically fell off the bed.

"Seriously Specs! You wanna get my arm busted?" the groggy 15 year-old grumbled. Cinnamon stood up, stumbled to the spare closet ("I need my privacy!" was Cinnamon's constant excuse) and had a good look in the mirror.

 _No one needs to know_ , Cinnamon thought. The newsie thought the same thing every day. It was practically a mantra by now.

Pulling on a button-down shirt, some trousers, and a vest, Cinnamon walked out of the closet and greeted some friends: Crutchie, Davy, Les, Race, and finally, Jack.

After taking a quick bite of toast (with a light dusting of cinnamon, of course), Cinnamon raced out of the Lodging House, now armed with some newspapers and ready to seize the day. Yet, a small, almost unnoticeable, pang of worry lay in the subconscious of this newsie's brain.

Let me explain. There's a secret that makes Cinnamon very, very different from all the other newsies in New York.

Cinnamon was a girl.

A few hours and ten papers after leaving the Lodge, Cinnamon sat on a bench, snacking on an apple she bought with a nickel she found at the bottom of her bag.

She was sky gazing, one of her favorite pastimes. At this moment, she was trying to figure out what the clouds looked like.

Cinnamon had just decided that one of the clouds looked like Wiesel's ugly profile when she heard a voice say, "Sky gazin' again, Cinnamon?"

She snapped out of her semi-daydream and realized Crutchie, a crippled newsie and her best friend ever, had snuck up on her (Crutchie was surprisingly sneaky for someone with a crutch) and plopped himself down on the bench.

You see, Crutchie was the only one who knew about Cinnamon's true identity: he had discovered it in July that year.

"Yep. Hey, lookit that one," she said to Crutchie, leaning over towards him and pointing out a cloud. "It looks just like Medda singing."

Crutchie looked in the direction of Cinnamon's finger and chuckled. "It really does," he agreed.

Cinnamon laughed along with him, then suddenly remembered something. Her face grew serious.

"Crutchie. Can I talk to you for a second?"

Crutchie nodded, then followed her into a nearby alley.

"Crutchie – I'm scared." She looked up at him and took a deep breath. "I'm scared they'll figure me out."

"I know," he said. "I know you're scared. But I won't let them figure you out."

"But it's been six years. I don't feel like this charade will hold up much longer."

"Like you said, it's been six years. You've been clever enough to pull it off for this long. You can keep it up a little while more."

Cinnamon nervously bit her lip. "I'm sorry for dumping this all on your shoulders all the ti-"

Crutchie cut her off. "No, Mona." Cinnamon blushed. Crutchie was the only one who could ever call her that. He's only ever called her that in private, and only since he found her out. "You need someone to talk to. I'm one hundred percent willing to be that person."

The girl newsie smiled, freckles dancing on her face, her hair blowing a little in the wind. She found herself tearing up a bit. Without warning, she leapt towards Crutchie and full on hugged him.

"You're a great friend, Crutchie."

Crutchie blushed bright red, even though Cinnamon couldn't see it.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps dangerously close to their alley. The footsteps were tip-tapping themselves into a repetitive rhythm: it was, without a doubt, Les.

Cinnamon quickly pulled away from Crutchie, and immediately felt his warmth slip away.

"Hey Cinnamon! You left your apple on the be-" As Les turned the corner and entered the alley, his eyes widened. "Hey Cinnamon! What'chyou do ta Crutchie? He's as red as a tomato."

That comment made Crutchie blush even more.

"That's none of your business, Les," mumbled Cinnamon, blushing as well. She grabbed Crutchie's arm and started to pull him out of the alley.

She didn't miss Les grabbing Crutchie's arm and whispering, "Whatever he did ta yous, it sure had an impact on ya."

She glared at Les, which made all color rush from his face. He scampered out of the alley, not looking up.

"Wow, you sure scared him," Crutchie chuckled.

"Yeah," Cinnamon said, smiling a little. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

The two walked out of the alley and back into the daylight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Side Note!**

 **No, I don't own Newsies or anything. Just to make that clear.**

 **This chapter's kind of short, just to let you know.**

 **Anyway… you're probably thinking "Just get on with the chapter already!"**

 **My thoughts exactly.**

Chapter 2: What A Face

Later, back at the Lodge, Crutchie was on Cloud Nine.

Cinnamon had hugged him. Actually _hugged_ him!

He stared at Cinnamon from his chair on the other side of the room. She was playing cards with Racetrack (Race for short) and Davey.

"Hey Crutchie! You okay? You're lookin' kinda red in the face."

Crutchie looked up to find Jack leaning over him, smiling at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," Crutchie said quickly.

"You sure you're okay? You was starin' off inta space for a bit."

"Nah, I'm fine," Crutchie said, still staring at Cinnamon.

Jack was quiet for a moment. Then his face broke into a huge grin.

"You met a girl, huh?"

"Huh?"

"You like someone!"

"Uh… no I don't…" Crutchie mumbled.

"Aw, c'mon! I know a crush when I see one. After all, I've got one." He gestured to Katherine, his girlfriend, who was swapping stories with some newsies. She looked up, noticed Jack looking at her, and blew him a kiss. Jack turned to Crutchie with a goofy grin on his face.

"Oooookay," Crutchie said.

"But c'mon! Admit it!" Jack was nudging Crutchie as if he had a big secret. Um, which he did. Two of them. One: the fact that Cinnamon was a girl. Two: the fact that he had a BIG crush on her.

"No. I. Won't!" Crutchie grunted between nudges. Jack stopped when he saw how uncomfortable Crutchie was.

"Oh, fine, fine," Jack grumbled, trying to hide a smile but totally failing. "You're no fun. But you can't hide from me." Someone shouted Jack's name, so he walked out of the hallway, leaving Crutchie alone.

Crutchie sighed a deep sigh of relief. His and Cinnamon's secrets were safe… for now, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Side Note!**

 **No, I don't own Newsies or anything. Just to make that clear.**

 **Also, this chapter contains minor violence.**

 **Okay. I'll go now. I'll just let you read.**

Chapter 3: The Poor Guy's Head Is Spinning

 _Cinnamon was in the Lodge._

 _All the newsies were staring at her with looks of disappointment. Even Katherine was refusing to look her in the eye._

 _Jack walked up to her, then punched Cinnamon in the gut, knocking all possible air out of her._

" _Is it true?" he asked. Cinnamon could practically see the anger boiling up within him. "Are you really a – a_ girl _?"_

 _Cinnamon, trembling, nodded her head._

" _Why would you lie to us? WHY?" Jack screamed at her. Cinnamon was crying._

" _I – I thought you guys would have been better off not knowing," Cinnamon stammered quietly. "If everyone knew I was a girl, then it would make us an even bigger target for the Delanceys."_

 _Jack paused for a moment, catching his breath. Maybe he wouldn't hit her again…_

 _But he drove his fist into her gut once again._

 _Cinnamon gasped for breath, then gasped out of shock when she saw that Jack was holding Crutchie tightly by the arm._

" _No… Please don't do this…" Cinnamon pleaded._

" _He knew! He knew about you!" Jack said, looking accusingly at Crutchie. His face was still recovering from the bruises he got at the Refuge._

" _Don't hurt him, Jack," she pleaded._

" _Please… don't…" Crutchie forced out. But he couldn't finish his sentence, because Jack had punched him in the most sensitive spot on his chest._

 _Crutchie cried out in pain._

 _Cinnamon cried out in pain as well, but not the same type as Crutchie._

" _NO!"_

"Cinnamon?"

"NO! DON'T HURT HIM!"

" _Cinnamon_!"

Cinnamon jolted awake to find half of the newsies crowded around her. Jack was staring at her, looking concerned. Cinnamon shrieked and jumped into the corner of her bed.  
"Whoa, Cinnamon. It's just me. You know. Jack Kelly? The best of the best?"

Cinnamon let a small chuckle.

Race pushed his way to the front of the small crowd and put his hand on her shoulder. Cinnamon shuffled away and covered her chest. She couldn't take any risks right now.

"What happened?"

"Nightmare."

"You okay?"  
"Y-yeah."

"You sure? This is the fourth nightmare in two months. That's not normal."

"No, Race, I'm fine."

The truth was, Cinnamon _wasn't_ fine. She just had a recurring dream she'd been having for the past year. And this was the first time it had happened so frequently. The small pang of worry deep inside of her was starting to grow.

Crutchie hobbled forward. She was relieved to find his face was free of bruises. He leaned towards her and spoke in a hushed tone. "Mona? Can I talk to you?"

Cinnamon nodded.

Crutchie brought his voice back to a normal level and demanded, "All right. Everyone – leave this room and don't come back until I tell you to."

Grumbling, the other newsies left the room.

Once they were alone, Crutchie said, "Mona, did you have – you know – _that_ nightmare again?"

"Yes, Crutchie," Cinnamon confirmed. "It's never happened so frequently before. I guess that you-know-what is really stressing me out."

"Can you tell me what happened? It'll help you feel better. When I had nightmares about the Refuge, Jack taught me this method."

Cinnamon hesitated.

"C'mon, you can do it. It was just a nightmare."

"Well, I was sitting right here, and all the newsies were here and looking at me all disappointed – except you, of course – and Jack came up and punched me… he _hurt_ me… and then he took you and… hurt you… too… for knowing…"

Cinnamon couldn't take it any longer. She burst into tears and buried her face in Crutchie's shoulder. Crutchie hugged her tightly and soothingly patted her on the head.

"It's okay, Mona," he said, over and over. "Breathe. It's okay. No one's gonna hurt you."

Cinnamon softened at his warmth and instantly felt better. She silently thanked him. "Thank you, Crutchie. Thank you."

Little did they know, Les was peeking through the keyhole and listening on to every word. He straightened up and smiled. He had so much to tell the others…


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! It's Cinnamon… in case you haven't guessed.**

 **Again… I do not – I repeat, DO NOT – own Newsies.**

 **The songs in this chapter are "Never Planned On You/Don't Come A-Knocking" from Newsies, and "Memory" from CATS. I don't own CATS either. If I could own a Newsie and a Jellicle, that would be awesome. Anyway… On with the show!**

Chapter 4: All Alone With Her Memories

"Guys! Guys!"

Les raced down to the other newsies, who had decided that they should respect Cinnamon and Crutchie's privacy and step away from the door. But Les didn't do that. He listened to every last word and saw every last detail.

"Guess what I heard!" Les collapsed in a panting heap at their feet.

Mush helped him back up again. "Wait – you didn't eavesdrop on Cinnamon and Crutchie, did you?"

The young newsie nodded.

"Les, that isn't right to do…" Specs started.

Les bowed his head, ready for some sort of scolding.

"But we'll let it pass. C'mon! Spill!"

Les's head bobbed back up excitedly, and he started to tell what he saw to the newsies.

"… Apparently Cinnamon's got a secret none of us know about except Crutchie, because he said, that in his bad dream, Jack hurt him… for knowing…"

Jack's eyes widened. "I hurt Cinnamon?"

"And Crutchie," Les added.

Jack's eyes went from saucers to wagon wheels.

"And he started cryin' and Crutchie took Cinnamon in his arms and said that everything's okay and that no one was going to hurt him."

Race looked at the ceiling pensively. "What on earth could Cinnamon be hiding?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out," Romeo said, stepping forward. "Obviously, Crutchie and Cinnamon have a more intimate friendship than they show… and Cinnamon's got some big secret that he's worried will cause harm if found out."

"That's not much to go on," Ernie yelled from the back.

"At least it's something," Romeo yelled back. "Now, let's get to Medda's, or we'll be late for the show."

Once everyone was ready (and Cinnamon had wiped away her tears), they set off for Medda Larkin's theater.

Much to the newsies' delight, they had been put in the show the week after the strike ended. They performed on the weekends, and were happy to do so.

All the newsies were restless backstage, as they always were. Cinnamon was leaning on one of Jack's painted backdrops, tuning her violin.

Jack walked up to her. "You ready? This is your first performance."

"Yeah, I'm ready," she replied casually.

Jack suddenly had an idea. "Hey, why don't 'cha sing with us? We never heard you sing."

"No."

"Well… okay." Jack said as he was called onstage.

Cinnamon saw Jack walk onstage, and she heard at least a dozen girls squeal. She groaned. This happened _every_ time.

" _I have no use for moonlight, or sappy poetry,_

 _Love at first sight's for suckers. At least it used to be…_ " Jack began.

Cinnamon heard a loud thud, then, "Somebody get the stretcher!" She'd bet her bottom dollar that some member of the "Unofficial Jack Kelly Fan Club" had fainted.

Once Jack's song was done (and all the squealing girls were finally calmed down), Medda walked onstage, a proud smile on her face.

"Everyone give a big hand to Jack Kelly!"

There was thunderous applause. Jack jogged offstage, and Cinnamon gave him a high five. "How'd I do?" he asked.

"Fantastic, as always," Crutchie said, patting him on the back.

"And now," Medda continued, sweeping her arms out dramatically, "I'd like to introduce a newsie who is new to the stage."

There was a whisper that grew among the crowd. A newsie that they haven't seen?

"Ladies and gentlemen… give a hand to our newest performer!"

There was applause, and then silence.  
"Your time to shine, freckles," Race said as he patted Cinnamon on the shoulder and handed her some rosin.

Cinnamon took a breath, ran the rosin across her bow one last time, and stepped onto the stage.

At first, the lights almost blinded her. She could barely see a foot in front of her nose. She quickly got adjusted to it though, then slowly moved to the center of the stage. She raised the violin to her chin and brought her bow to the strings.

The audience held their breath with anticipation.

Then she slipped into Chopin's Nocturne in C# minor. She lost knowledge of what was going on around her, all she knew was her, the violin, and her music.

Once she played the final note, she brought her bow and violin down to her hip and stared out at the audience. She took a slow bow and walked offstage.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered. "I don't know if they liked it."

Then came the applause.

"I guess they liked it," Jack said with a smile.

Later that night, when all the newsies had gone to bed, Jack lay in his cot, unable to sleep. He tossed and turned. No help.

Just when Jack was standing up to get a glass of water, he heard a soft voice.

" _Midnight,_

 _Not a sound on the pavement._

 _Has the moon lost her memory?_

 _She is smiling alone._

 _In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet_

 _And the wind begins to moan_."

Jack stopped in his tracks. He didn't know who the voice belonged to. All he knew was that it was coming from the roof.

He silently walked to the window, and stepped over an empty bed. However, he didn't realize who the bed belonged to.

" _Memory, all alone in the moonlight,_

 _I can smile at the old days,_

 _I was beautiful then."_

The light and almost ethereal voice followed Jack as he climbed the ladder to the roof, or, as he called it, his "penthouse in the sky".

" _I remember the time where I knew what happiness was,_

 _Let the memory live again._ "

Jack slowly grabbed the top rung of the ladder, and nimbly and quietly swung himself up onto the concrete roof.

He could not believe his eyes (or ears).

Cinnamon was sitting on the edge of the roof, his cap off, and his mid-neck length hair blowing in the cool breeze. _He_ was singing.

 _He was the voice._

 _"Every streetlamp seems to beat_

 _A fatalistic warning._

 _Someone mutters, and the streetlamp gutters,_

 _And soon it will be morning."_

Jack considered going back down the ladder, but since Cinnamon wasn't facing him anyway, he decided that he might as well listen in.

Cinnamon continued the haunting melody.

" _Daylight_

 _I must wait for the sunrise._

 _I must think of a new life,_

 _And I mustn't give in._

 _When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too,_

 _And a new day will begin._ "

Jack was secretly devastated that the song was over. Cinnamon slowly stood up and put his cap on. Jack started going back down the ladder, and it gave a loud creak. Cinnamon turned around, searching for the source of the noise, and his eyes fell on Jack.

Cinnamon gasped, his face looking like a deer in the headlights, his hands instinctively covering his chest. Jack just stared.

Cinnamon rushed over to Jack, looking nervous.

"Promise you won't tell anyone about tonight," he said in a hushed tone, his voice a little higher than it usually was.

Jack slowly nodded, trying to figure him out.

And, in that moment, he understood.

He _knew_.

Cinnamon made a quick shooing motion with his – or rather, _her_ – hand. "C'mon! Hurry up!"

Jack scrambled down the ladder and slowly walked to his bed.

He fell asleep to Cinnamon's song echoing in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! Me… as always. (Gosh. I** ** _need_** **to stop introducing myself.) I do not own Newsies, but I wish I could get myself a Jack Kelly, a Crutchie, or a Racetrack. Heck, even having a Romeo would make my day.**

 **So… here ya go.**

Chapter 5

Jack woke up with Cinnamon's song still lingering in his thoughts, intertwining with them like vines. He looked across the room, over to the window, and there he – sorry, _she_ – sat, reading a book while tugging her cap over her hair. She closed the book, and looked up. She saw Jack staring, and raised a suspicious eyebrow. Almost blushing, Jack looked down and adjusted his shoelaces.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, then a soft kiss on his forehead.

"You alright Jack?"  
Katherine stood above him, her chestnut hair tickling his forehead.

"Yeah. Just thinking," he said, which wasn't entirely a lie. He stood up and gave her a long kiss. He heard Race making gagging noises, so he pulled out of the kiss, chased him down, and put him in a light headlock, followed by a noogie, and, finally, releasing him.

"Sorry, Cowboy," Race said, grinning while rubbing his neck.

At breakfast, as he sat eating his toast, an idea popped into his head. Since he didn't want to say it himself, he pulled Mush over and whispered it into his ear.

"Cinnamon!" Mush called. Cinnamon looked up, cheeks bulging with bread.

"Wha daya want, Buth?" she mumbled, mouth full.

"Why don't you bring your violin into the streets, and play it for money?"

Her face lightened up, and she nodded vigorously.

Les gave a small cheer, and Davey smiled. "Yeah, you should, Cinnamon. You played really well last night."

She gave a small smile, swallowed, and then stood up to leave.

"Imma go get my papers from Wiesel," Cinnamon declared, and, grabbing her violin, walked out the door.

As Cinnamon left the room, Jack noticed some things about her he hadn't before: Cinnamon smoothing down her blouse self-consciously, her adjusting her cap (her hair was a bit longer than usual today; she had most likely forgot to cut it last night), her signature gesture of keeping her arms (arm, in this case, since she was carrying her violin in one hand) wrapped around her chest as if she were keeping her heart from bursting out… and a long sad stare at Crutchie, topped off with the smallest smile.

In that moment, Jack knew something else. His eyes widened and he dropped his toast.

"Oh lordy," he muttered under his breath.

Elmer, who was sitting next to him, nudged Jack. "Hey Jack, you okay?"

He straightened and tried his best to look nonchalant. "Yup. Yeah. Just dandy."

Elmer gave Jack a confused stare as the Cowboy of New York sprinted out the door.

Cinnamon bit her lip anxiously. Jack Kelly had seen her on the rooftop.

Last.

Night.

SINGING.

She pulled her violin out of its case, relaxing immediately at the touch of wood against her skin. But tensed up when she thought of the rooftop again.

She sat down on her bench, rosining her bow so much that dust started floating around her like she was caught in a sandstorm. A passing lady stared at Cinnamon with disdain.

Cinnamon, now embarrassed, dropped the rosin into her case with haste and started to tune her violin.

As she tuned, she tried to focus her mind on the violin instead of Jack.

 _Huh. My E string is way sharp._

She started to twist the E-string peg, but felt an unfamiliar wind blow past her head, and looked up.

Two young boys that looked around the age of thirteen had brushed past her and ran away with her cap. Eyes wide, Cinnamon felt the top of her head and felt nothing but her curly brown mess of a head. She felt some hair tickle the bottom of her neck, almost like it was saying _Well, are they gonna keep the cap or not?_ Decisively, she set down her violin.

"Hey!" Cinnamon hollered, forgetting to slightly deepen her voice. "Give that back!" She started to jog, then gradually accelerated into a terrifyingly fast sprint. Running from the bulls had finally paid off.

One of the boys – he was tall with red hair – laughed and started to run faster, waving his friend along. Cinnamon picked up her pace as well, her breath in sync with her feed slapping against the concrete sidewalk.

She eventually caught up to them and tricked them into running into an alley, and one of its two exits was blocked by a row of ginormous piles of garbage. Cinnamon blocked the other one. The other boy – this one had hair like straw and was slightly skinnier than an average boy should be – shivered slightly and clutched Cinnamon's cap to his chest.

"Really?" Cinnamon said, her face flattening out into an annoyed expression. "Stealing my cap?"

The red-haired one grabbed the cap from the skinny one and tossed it to the cap-less Newsie. Once her cap was back on, Cinnamon keeled over and breathed hard, her hands on her knees, her head down.

"Hey mister?" One of the boys piped up.

"No need to call me mister," Cinnamon mumbled.

"Why do you have cloth all over her chest."

Cinnamon's head snapped up. "What?"

The boy who asked the question (the red-haired one) seemed to get annoyed by Cinnamon's response. "I _said_ , why do you have cloth all over your chest? Are you like, hurt or something?"

Cinnamon realized at once that he was talking about the cloths that she used to bind her breasts and make her chest flat; she then realized that she had forgotten to put on her undershirt today.

Her face turned red. Now it was HER turn to get annoyed.

'That's none of your business," she growled. "Now you better get out of here before I give you both a licking!"

The boys didn't hesitate in running away.

Once they were gone, Cinnamon sighed, and headed back towards her bench – and her violin. She picked it up, feeling relieved once more, and began to play.


	6. Chapter 6

**'Sup.**

 **Anyway, on with the show!**

Chapter 6 

On any given day, you could ask Cinnamon to identify three of her favorite parts of being a newsie, and, without a doubt, one of her answers would be "hanging out in the dormitory with her friends".

Cinnamon sat on her cot and grinned at Romeo's story of his latest attempt to hook up with some "new goil".

"And then I took her hat right off her head," Romeo said, feeling (and looking) very pleased at the crowd of boys his story had gathered. "And when she reached for it, she got awful close to my face, ya see. And I took that to my advantage…"

He told the punch line, and a large collective howl of laughter came from the whole crowd. All except Race, who had a furrowed brow (a look he didn't usually have).

"Hey Romeo," he said slowly. "What did you say her hat looked like again?"

"Blue-dyed straw with a yellow ribbon on the brim. Why?"

"Romeo," Race said, enunciating each syllable of his name, his eyes flaming with anger. "That's my girl you're talkin' about."

Romeo's face went pale. Jack's eyes widened with shock, simultaneously holding in laughter and (seemingly) the urge to hide under the bed. Les uttered a word that caused Davey to slap his little brother upside the head. It was common knowledge – nay, _law_ \- not to mess with another newsie's girl.

"You're gonna get it _bad_ , lover boy!" Race leaped up, jumped over the gaggle of newsies, and rushed towards Romeo, his arms grabbing for his prey. Romeo didn't hesitate in ducking, which made his attacker run into the bed and hit his nose on the closest bunk bed ladder. Cinnamon let out a burst of the laughter she was holding in for the entire encounter. The entire room fell quiet as every single person in the room (including Race, who had gotten a bloody nose, thanks to the ladder) slowly turned to face her. The majority of the newsies had looks of astonishment, while Jack was making a sort of mixed face, one somewhere between "Oh Goodness No" and "What the Heck?" Crutchie was in the corner, eyes wide, teeth gritted, his thumb rapidly drawing invisible lines across his neck. He performed this action in such nervousness and vigor that he fell off his chair and was unable to get back up again. Mush ran to help him, his eyes still plastered on Cinnamon.

"Cinnamon?" Specs asked, sounding concerned. "Are you okay? Did you get hit somewhere?" Specs motioned to the general area of his midsection.

"Oh, I'm fine, Specs. Why'd you ask?"

"Uh, well…" Specs shifted between balancing on his heels, and then his toes. Heels, toes, heels, toes. "You're voice kinda got a little, sorta, uh, high pitched? Almost as if your voice cracked. I mean, yeah, you're fifteen, so you're done with that, but are you okay?"

Only then did Cinnamon realize that she had forgotten to lower her voice when she laughed. _Oh, Glory day,_ she thought. _Why didn't I choose to pass off as eleven?_

She stood in silence, frozen, unable to come up with an answer. She breathed rapidly, anxiety taking over all reason. She felt like she was going to collapse any second.

Then that feeling was gone.

A pair of arms was wrapped around her, squeezing her tight in a caring and comforting way. She looked up and saw Crutchie, his eyes squeezed tight, as if he was hoping desperately for her to recover from some terrible illness. She was utterly shocked at first. What in the world was he thinking? He's hugging her in public! But, then again, she did like the way his head rested on top of hers. _Forget what the others think_ , Cinnamon thought in that moment. _They'll all figure me out at some point anyway._ And she wrapped her arms around him in return and felt a warm, cozy feeling cover her like a blanket.

:::

No one had brought up that moment for the rest of the night, although some stares followed the two newsies until lights-out.

:::

Cinnamon woke up at around midnight. She simply couldn't sleep. She could only think and think about the embrace that she shared with Crutchie earlier that evening. Then she noticed a shadow sitting on the corner of her bunk.

"I see you're awake," the shadow said.

Cinnamon rolled over to face the Crutchie. "Hey," she said, a little groggy.

Crutchie scooched closer to Cinnamon, using his hand to pull his injured leg into a crisscross position. Cinnamon took a breath. "Crutchie… about earlier, I –"

"There's no need to be sorry," Crutchie said in a hurry, cutting Cinnamon off. "It was my fault."

"The truth is that –" Crutchie muttered.

"To be honest –" Cinnamon started.

"I…" they said, and trailed off together. The two knew they didn't need to say anymore. They could see it in each other's eyes, but at the same time, they could not believe it.

On the inside, Cinnamon was euphoric, but she tried hard not to show it. She was glad it was dark; her face was as red as Medda's new show dress. "Crutchie? You really do – "

She wasn't able to finish her sentence, though, because she was pulled into another hug. She became as happy on the outside as she felt on the inside. It was like being wrapped in happiness. She wished this moment would last forever.

And it did. At least, it seemed like it did. When the two newsies finally pulled apart, the moonlight illuminating their blushing but happy faces, they each felt that they were looking at a true friend.

No.

They were looking at someone that was _more_ than a friend. And they both knew it.


	7. Chapter 7

**WEEEEELLLL HELLLLOOOO! WELCOME TO MYYYY THEATRE! (#medda4life)**

 **By the way, if anyone is asking, you can imagine the newsies' appearance anyway you like, but for me, the newsies' appearance is mostly based off the appearance of the "Newsies Live" cast (the recorded version). So Jack=Jeremy Jordan, Katherine=Kara Lindsay, Crutchie=Andrew Keenan-Bolger, Race=Ben Cook, and so on and so forth.**

 **I just realized that this chapter is longer than usual.**

Chapter 7

"Crutchie? Why are you…" a voice rang loud in Crutchie's ears before trailing off. Crutchie sat up like a shot. Buttons was standing there, looking at Crutchie inquisitively.

"WhyamIwhat?" Crutchie slurred, the power of sleep still heavy in his eyes.

"Why are you in Cinnamon's bed?"

At that, Crutchie became fully awake. The events of the previous night sprinted back into his mind. His eyes widened and he shifted away from Cinnamon's sleeping form. "Uh, I don't know," he said, chuckling nervously, trying to find an excuse. "I sleepwalk sometimes. I must have fallen down here or something…"

Buttons looked at Crutchie skeptically. Crutchie thought that he was being looked at this way because his lie wasn't believably delivered (which was true), but that wasn't the problem.

"You sleepwalk?" Buttons inquired. "With a gimp leg?"

As he said this, Cinnamon stirred. "Crutchie?" she murmured, reaching out to where he fell asleep the night before. Crutchie's eyes widened even more. Maybe he could set a world record for most eye widening from a 16-year-old.

"Uh, I'd better go," Crutchie chattered, standing up and hopping on one leg to the lavatory.

:::

Buttons stayed by Cinnamon's bed for a while, trying to decipher what had just happened.

"What are you doing here, Buttons?" Buttons looked down to see Cinnamon fully awake and looking up at him. He* sighed and closed his eyes again. Buttons watched quietly as Cinnamon reached up to itch an area in his shirt. As he itched, the other newsie noticed some sort of gauze around Cinnamon's chest. He decided to ask about it.

"Cinnamon? What's up with the gauze all over your chest?"

Cinnamon's eyes flew open again and she started to ramble. "Nothing. Nothing!" she insisted. "Why are you even looking, you creep?"

As Buttons turned to leave the panicking newsie, he asked himself, _What's going on here?_

 _:::_

Once Buttons had finally turned away, Cinnamon stood up shakily, trying to ignore a gargantuan cramp that had just decided to rest near the bottom of her abdomen, and awkwardly staggered to her closet. _Maybe I just need to use the bathroom_ , she thought. Luckily, there was a toilet inside her little space. She pulled off her bedclothes, ready to relieve herself. Instead, when she looked down…

"Oh.

My.

 _Gosh._ "

A long stream of blood was trickling down from between Cinnamon's legs. She screamed so loud she heard Crutchie hobble to the door.

"Are you okay?" she heard his muffled voice say.

"Uh… I don't know what's happening to me," Cinnamon responded, choked up in shock.

"Should I come in?" Crutchie said.

"I guess you could, but you'd be in for a surprise," she replied.

She heard the door open, and she quickly covered her area with her bedclothes. Crutchie stepped inside.

"Cinnamon… you're naked," Crutchie said, his eyes wide.

"Never mind that," Cinnamon snapped, leaning over from a large jolt of pain. Crutchie held her by the shoulders. "Look… down," Cinnamon grunted.

Crutchie did as he told, and he covered his mouth in shock. "Oh god, Mona," he gasped. "You're bleeding!"

"This has never happened to me before!" exclaimed Cinnamon, gesturing frantically to the blood still trickling down her leg. "What do I do?"

Crutchie was silent for a bit. Then he lowered his voice: "Maybe it's a thing that girls get. You'd have to ask a girl, 'cos I have no idea. But then you'd have to reveal your identity to someone else other than me."

"It's worth the risk," Cinnamon said. "I'll ask Katherine."

Crutchie was silent again before pulling Cinnamon into a bear hug. "I hope you're okay."

Cinnamon lingered for a moment before pulling away, although their hands were still clasped. "I do too."

:::

"KAAAAAAATHERIIIIINE!" Katherine turned around to see Cinnamon sprinting toward her, his face desperate.

"Uh, Cinnamon?"

"I need something from you," he pleaded, leaning forwards, a hand on his abdomen.

"Okay, what is it?" Katherine heard herself sounding concerned. She smoothed out her skirt, ready to help.

Cinnamon looked around them, then grabbed Katherine's arm and pulled her into a room with nobody in it. The newsie started to pull off his pants.

Katherine took haste in covering her eyes. "What on earth are you doing?"

She then heard Cinnamon say these words as if bracing her for a big surprise: "Stay calm. I know this will come to you as a shock, but try not to panic for my sake."

Katherine uncovered her eyes and gasped. A small river of blood was running down Cinnamon's leg. Cinnamon looked up to Katherine, his eyes pleading. "Help me?"

"I… this doesn't make sense," Katherine murmured, almost to herself. "The only logical – well not logical really – is that this would only happen if you were –"

"A girl?" Cinnamon finished Katherine's sentence as he pulled off his shirt. Katherine's eyes widened as her eyes passed over a thick layer of gauze covering Cinnamon's chest. _A makeshift breast bind_.

"You…" Katherine sputtered, trying to find the right words. "You…"

"I know what you're thinking," Cinnamon rushed, his her hands up as if in surrender. "But don't think. You just have to help me. I… don't know what's happening to me. This has never happened before." Cinnamon's eyes watered with fear. "Please."

Katherine took a long, deep breath and tried to get a hold of what just happened. _Okay,_ she thought _. Cinnamon's just pulled me into a room and told me he – she – is a girl and now he AAARGH NO SHE is bleeding from her leg andshewantsmetohelpher andhasnoideathatthisisnaturalforawoman_ –

"Katherine?" Katherine jerked herself out of her internal rant and looked up to see Cinnamon violently mopping at her legs with her pants, which were now nearly halfway stained red.

"Oh, yes, right," Katherine said, trying to keep her cool. "I deal with this for a couple days each month. It's called your period."

"Every month? Gosh, Katherine, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be, Cinnamon!" Katherine half-laughed. "It happens to every girl. And before you ask, no, this does not happen to boys." Cinnamon seemed to swallow the very question that Katherine just told her the answer to. " It means you… are becoming a woman." Cinnamon seemed as confused as Katherine felt by this whole gender-reveal situation. "I'll explain it all to you later. Anyway, we invented a thing to fix this."

"So you can stop the bleeding?" Cinnamon looked almost hopeful.

"No, not really. Well, sort of." Katherine pulled something out of a hidden pocket in her skirts and held it up. Cinnamon stared at it inquisitively.

"It looks like… gauze?"

"It is, really. It's called a sanitary pad." Katherine placed the pad into the palm of Cinnamon's hand. "You just have to put this into your underpants when you have your period and you have to remember to replace it every few hours. Okay?"

"Okay. Now turn around." Cinnamon was very insistent for that last part, so Katherine turned around and covered her eyes for good measure. She then heard lots of shuffling. "Okay, you can turn around now."

Cinnamon was back in her clothes. Her shirt was as clean as it usually was, but her trousers were blotched with red and her socks were completely red. "I should probably change clothes. Looks like I murdered someone, huh?" Katherine laughed and nodded vigorously.

Cinnamon turned to walk through the door, but then she looked back and smiled. "Oh, and by the way, thanks for the help."

"No problem, kid. No one else would have been able to help you with that anyway."

Cinnamon laughed, and then she was gone.

 _Huh_ , Katherine thought as she grabbed a rag to mop up the leftover blood on the floor, _I wonder if she'll be able to keep up this façade much longer._

 _* Author's Note: Remember the fact that only Jack and Crutchie know that Cinnamon is really a girl. So whenever it's Jack, Cinnamon or Crtuchie's point of view, Cinnamon is referred to as "she". In anyone else's point of view, Cinnamon is referred to as "he"._


	8. Chapter 8

**'Sup, my fellow Newsies!**

 **Okay, that was weird (like my soul).**

 **I'm gonna give you a little backstory now. A nice cruise down Memory Lane, okay? By the way, this chapter happens mere hours after the events of the previous chapter. Enjoy the show/chapter/whatever you wanna call it!**

Later that same day, Cinnamon grabbed up her violin case and made her way to Medda's theatre. Since that day when she tried performing live, she had become the newest number in the "Newsboy Variety Show*", as Medda liked to call it. As she trudged down the street with the other newsies (some of them performers, some of them spectators), she fell into step with Race, who was now by her side.

"So Cinnamon, what's up?" he said, his winner's smile spread on his face. The two newsies had been close friends since Cinnamon first came to the lodging house, to the point that they felt like brother and sister. He nudged her playfully, which Cinnamon returned.

"Nothing much," Cinnamon replied in a bit of a singsong voice. Race raised an eyebrow and nudged her again. His elbow accidentally ran into Cinnamon's violin case, which swung back and forth wildly. "Hey, watch the case," Cinnamon said protectively.

"Really?" Race said. "I heard you scream in 'your space', as the others call it. You alright? If something's wrong, just tell me."

Cinnamon reflexively wrapped her arms around her chest. "No, nothing's wrong."

"Alright…" Race said, giving her a light punch. "But you can trust me."

:::

Once the show was finally over (and all the girls had stopped swooning over Jack), the newsies were hanging out in the dormitory, doing whatever they wanted. Cinnamon went to answer a loud knock at the door, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a wild back handspring executed perfectly by Tommy Boy*.

"Nice one, just try not to kill me next time," she shot at him as she opened the door. "Hey…" she then realized who was standing before her: New York Governor Alonzo Cornell. "Governor Cornell. What brings you here?"

At the mention of his name, all the newsies halted their fun immediately and attempted to look presentable. Crutchie was trying not to fall out of surprise, which made Cinnamon almost laugh. However, she swallowed it and turned back to the governor.

"Well…" Cornell adjusted his suit. "I'm looking for a girl that disappeared about six years ago. She should be about fifteen years old by now."

Cinnamon felt her stomach began to churn. "Can you give us a name, sir?"

"Er…" Cornell looked at a sheet of paper. "Cassidy Jounal?"

He pronounced the last name as "jou-NALL", and at that, Cinnamon's stomach did a flip as wild as Tommy Boy's.

"Yes, we will look for the child," Cinnamon mustered, trying not to throw up on the Governor's nice suit. "Do you have a photograph?" She internally prayed that he did not.

"Ah, yes," Cornell said, and Cinnamon did all she could not to scream in frustration and barf all at once.

Cornell pulled a newspaper clipping out of his pocket and handed it to her. "It was in today's paper. There's a citywide search for the child, as she was the offspring of Jemima and Ernest Jounal, two of the most prestigious musicians in the city. They disappeared around the same time as Cassidy, and we are looking for them as well."

Cinnamon felt like she was going to weep. She did not look at the picture, only put it in her trouser pocket. "Thank you sir."

"A thank you to you as well." The Governor closed the door.

Jack looked over in time to see Cinnamon vomit all over the floor, then fall to her knees. He, Crutchie, Katherine, and Race all rushed over to her. Her eyes were teary and she was hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?" Crutchie fretted, cupping his hand under Cinnamon's chin and making her look at him. "What's wrong?"

Cinnamon reached into her pocket with trembling hands and thrust a newspaper clipping at him. Crutchie reached for it, and Jack noticed the subtle detail that Crutchie's hands lingered over Cinnamon's for a moment before finally taking it out of her hands. He passed it around. When it came to Jack, he took one glance and saw the problem immediately.

 _Cinnamon was the lost child._

The photograph was of a dark skinned, freckled girl with long, curly hair. She was beaming, and she was holding up a violin.

Race's eyes were wide and he was slack-jawed. Katherine looked slightly shocked, but… she looked like she almost expected it. Crutchie's head was in his hands, his crutch lying next to him. Jack turned to Cinnamon. "Cinnamon… is this you?"

Cinnamon nodded, sniffling with guilt. She refused to look anyone in the eye, not even (to Jack's surprise) Crutchie. Race snatched the photo out of Jack's hands and stared at it again for a few seconds. Then he looked back at Cinnamon in disbelief. He did this again a couple times. He then gawked at Cinnamon. " _You're_ Cassidy? So that means… that means…"

Cinnamon nodded again, her face damp with tears. "Guess you found me out, huh?"

As this was happening, the other boys slowly gathered around the weeping girl. Just about every one of them had looks of surprise or shock on their faces. Davey looked extremely confused by everything, as he had just walked through the front door. He spied Cinnamon on the floor and rushed to her, Les tagging along behind him. "Okay. I demand to know what's going on here."

Jack gestured to Cinnamon. "Well, uh, I don't really know how to explain this…"

Jack took the picture from Race, easing it out of his hands since he was practically frozen in shock, and handed it to Davey. He studied it, turning the photograph around in his hands.

"Missing child for six years," Jack explained.

"I don't understand," Davey muttered, his eyes still on the photo. "What does that have to do with Cinnamon?"

"Well, how long has Cinnamon been with us newsies?" Crutchie asked Davey. Jack noticed that his gimp leg was twitching – a sign of nervousness from him.

"Six years," Davey answered. "Cinnamon told me himself at Jacobi's –" Sudden realization hit him, and his head snapped up. "My God," he exclaimed.

"Yup." Cinnamon said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

"…How could you keep this from us?" Race asked, sounding hurt. He had taken his cigar out of his mouth and had placed it on a small table next to him.

Cinnamon got up quickly, practically kneeled in front of him, and clasped his hand in hers. "Forgive me," she pleaded. Tears streamed down her face, splashing on the floor. "You found me on the doorstep that day. You've been like a brother to me ever since. Forgive me. Please?" She bowed her head, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Race."

The newsies were silent with surprise at the act they had just witnessed. This had never happened before. Race didn't move, he just stared down at Cinnamon. She stared back up at him fearfully. Finally, he pulled Cinnamon to her feet.

"You're good with me," Race said after a long pause. He hugged Cinnamon (Jack noticed Crutchie looked a little envious at that moment) and pulled back. He showed her to a chair. "Well… how did you get here anyway? You never told us."

Cinnamon looked around, and took a deep breath.

"My family was kinda wealthy. Okay fine. Pretty wealthy as it goes these days. My mother and father were both revered musicians. We were a happy family. But one day, when I was nine, they disappeared off the face of the earth. I couldn't find them anywhere. So I decided to wander around the city to look for them. I wandered for about two months. But then I saw the Lodging House and knew what I had to do. I got a haircut, bought some boys clothes, and knocked on the front door with my absolute last bit of strength. I mean, I was a girl that was sheltered and pampered my entire life that spent eight weeks sleeping on the street. I collapsed immediately after knocking. Race found me. He would ask over and over what my name was, but I wouldn't tell him. I wouldn't tell anyone. They named me Cinnamon because of my love of cinnamon and my freckles. No one knew about me until Crutchie walked in on me in my undergarments." Everyone made an "ooooooooh" sound, and Crutchie blushed while muttering "Shut up. Shut. Up."

"He promised to keep it a secret," Cinnamon continued. "Then, about a week ago, Jack found me out. And then Katherine this morning. And now…" she gestured wildly to the whole group.

There was a long silence. Then Finch stepped forward. "How did Jack find you out?"

"I caught her singing," Jack said.

"You can sing?" Elmer piped up.

"I learned along with the violin."

"You always said you couldn't sing!"  
"Well now you know." She retorted.

:::

That night, while Cinnamon was in her space using the restroom, Jack gathered all the newsies. "Stay awake tonight. Pretend to be asleep."

"Why?" Jojo asked. Jack only smiled.

About two hours later, all the boys were in their bunks, feigning sleep. They were all tired, and Finch was just about to ask the point of all this when they heard a haunting melody float through the window.

"Hey, where's Cinna-" Race began, but then he understood. "OOOOOH."

"Her voice is really prettyyyyyyy…" Crutchie whispered, his eyes closed, a smile on his face, entranced by the music.

"Yeah," Mush said.

They eagerly listened for another half hour, then dropped back into their beds once Cinnamon climbed down the ladder from the roof, ready for a night of rest, not knowing that the boys were listening in on her. Everybody went to bed, content and enchanted.

*A reference to Tommy Bracco (and his ability to do handsprings in small spaces) for all you Newsies fans.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok. Now stuff goes DOWN. (This is probably my longest chapter yet and for some reason I am so proud of myself for this fact.)**

 **By the way, Spot Conlon is in this chapter, and I'm going to use his Gabriel Damon's Spot instead of Tommy Bracco's (I mean, what if Musical Spot and Musical Tommy Boy ran into each other?) If anyone has any problems with that, I'm probably halfway across the country/globe from you so I won't be able to hear them anyway.** **Anyway** **In any event, the song in this chapter is "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley (I know, original choice, huh?).**

Chapter 9

The following morning, the newsies crowded around the breakfast table in hushed voices. Crutchie plopped down in his seat, his crutch on the floor beside his stool. He leaned in, ready for the new plan.

"Okay," Jack murmured while spreading butter on his bread slice. "Now that we know about Cinnamon's… situation, we need to learn how to hide it."

Cinnamon nodded nervously, and Crutchie felt a pang of concern for the girl sitting a seat away from him.

"Crutchie! Race!" Crutchie snapped to attention, as did Race, who was sitting between Crutchie and Cinnamon. "You guys are closest to Cinnamon, right?"

"Uh… yeah?" Crutchie replied. Race nodded seriously.

"You keep an eye on her. You know how the Delanceys are around girls; they can't wait to get their hands on one. Once they find out about Cinnamon… well, you know what's at risk."

"Of course," Racetrack and Crutchie replied dutifully. Crutchie didn't notice that he had snaked his hand around Race's lap to lace his fingers into Cinnamon's (and that she had met his hand halfway) until a few seconds later. He looked up to see Race looking down at his own lap in utter shock and astonishment. He looked between the two newsies, not knowing how to react to their hands intertwined over his lap. Race then turned to Cinnamon, a quiet sibling-like conversation flitting between them. They moved through itn fluently, as if reading each other's minds or simply speaking a second language. In the end, Cinnamon made a hopeful grimace that seemed to say, "Please don't tell?" Race considered for a second, then nodded, suppressing a smile.

They all turned back to the conversation with a new secret to keep.

After breakfast, Race pulled Crutchie to the side as the other newsies went to get their papers from Weisel.

"So," Race spoke so that no one else could hear, a slight teasing tone to his voice. "You found yourself a Katherine, huh?"

"Shaddup, Racetrack," Crutchie chuckled as he swiped Race's cigar from his hand, although after a moment, he gave it back.

"But it's true, isn't it?" Race said after a moment of fumbling around with his cigar.

Crutchie only nodded.

A pause. Then, a grin spread like butter across Race's face. "Well then, I got somewhere to take you, don't I?"

"I guess you do," Crutchie agreed, confused.

:::

"CINNAMOOOOOOOOOON!" someone screamed. Cinnamon turned sharply, nearly knocking over the person in front of her in line. Race was barreling towards her, Crutchie in tow. He was desperately trying to keep his crutch in hand, and he was grimacing in slight pain.

"Racetrack Higgins!" Cinnamon shouted to him. "You're hurting Crutchie!"

Race looked back to see that Crutchie was leaning forward and taking deep breaths.

"Whoopsie," he said. He let go of Crutchie and walked toward the banner stand.

"Two hundred, Weasel," he said airily. He barely paid attention to the fact that he cut an entire line of newsies, he just took his papers and gave half to Crutchie. "Hurry it up, Cinnamon, we've got someplace to be today."

Cinnamon paid for her hundred, got the papers, and then headed over to her two pals.

"Oh, and Cinnamon," Race started, then the leaned over and whispered in her ear. After a confused moment, Cinnamon nodded and dashed into the lodging house. She dashed back out to a confused Crutchie. After a moment, he noticed her cap did not cover her uncut hair, (that now almost reached her shoulders), and she was carrying her violin.

"What did he ask you to do? Besides this, I mean." Crutchie asked her, waving his hand up and down, gesturing to the hair and the violin at once.

"I'll tell you on the trolley. Anyway, where to, Race?" Cinnamon asked.

"My sellin' _spot_ , of course. No pun intended."

"What do you mean?" Crutchie wondered. Then he swallowed hard. "Oh no, not Brooklyn."

"Oh, yes, we're goin' to Brooklyn," Race declared, grabbing the two nervous newsies by the hands and hitching them onto the trolley. "And off we go to see the King!" he shouted in a singsong voice.

"But why are you taking _us_?" Cinnamon asked.

" _Us_ , of all people?" Crutchie continued Cinnamon's question.

"You silly lovebirds!" Race said. Crutchie and Cinnamon blinked at the nickname. "You never really thought that Cinnamon was the _only_ girl newsie in all of New York, did ya?"

"No, we didn't – wait, WHAT?!" they shouted.

As the trolley began to move, Crutchie asked, "Well, you still haven't told me what Race told you to do besides bring your violin and take off your cap."

"He told me," Cinnamon replied, "to undo my breast bind a little bit."

At this, Crutchie looked utterly bewildered, and Cinnamon laughed. "Now I know why, so you'll understand soon."

After a long explanation, the trolley finally reached Brooklyn.

"Woah," Cinnamon gasped upon looking at the Brooklyn Bridge.

"That's what I was thinking," Crutchie muttered, his arm wrapped around Cinnnamon's shoulder. They stared at the landmark in awe until Race hopped off the trolley and slapped his companions on the back, startling them. "Before we see Spot, we gotta do something first."

"And what is that?" Crutchie asked.

"Here, lemme show you," the other boy said, putting his cigar in his pocket and climbing on the rail of the bridge.

"Get off, Race, that's dangero-" Cinnamon began.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Race put all his lungpower into a scream that resonated off the metal bars that made up the Brooklyn Bridge.

Breathless, he hopped down from the rail and pushed Crutchie and Cinnamon towards it. "Every newsie does it during their first time in Brooklyn."

Cinnamon climbed onto the rail after a moment, but Crutchie looked at Race hesitantly. "I don't wanna sound like a killjoy, but I don't know if I can do it, Racer. My leg –"

"Aw, lemme help you with that," Race said, picking Crutchie up and swinging his legs around into a sitting position on the rail. Cinnamon and Crutchie both faced the water, their hands wrapped around each other for support. Race waited, his friend's crutch in hand.

"Ready?" Crutchie asked.

"Ready," Cinnamon replied.

They then screamed the loudest they ever had, the sound reaching Lower Manhattan.

"Wowie," Race muttered as his friends hopped off the rail. 'Even I can't scream that loud. Now," he said, shaking off his astonishment, "to the King."

Soon enough, the three Manhattan newsies reached an open area full of glass bottles (intact and shattered) and slingshots scattered across the ground. Lots of longish buildings surrounded in an almost semicircle.

"So, Race, we meet again," came a gruff voice from behind them.

The three turned around to see a short boy sporting a checkered shirt, red suspenders, an oversized cap and catlike smirk. He leaned on a pimp cane, and he had an aura of superiority surrounding him. His accent was much more pronounced than any of the Manhattan newsies she knew.

"Well, who do we 'ave heah," he said, sauntering towards them. "Higgins brought friends." Spot set his piercing gaze on Crutchie. "I know you. Youse da boy with dat bum leg everyone talks about." Crutchie shivered. Spot then turned to Cinnamon, his blue eyes like ice. "And I've nevah seen youse befoah." He scanned Cinnamon, his eyes pausing on her chest area for a second. "But youse look different. Are youse a goil?"

Cinnamon nodded, a little shyly.

"Yep. I thought so afta seein' that-" Spot pointed to Cinnamon's hair – "and that." Spot then gestured to her chest area. Once again, his eyes lingered there for a moment before Crutchie elbowed Spot.

"Hey, her eyes are up here," Crutchie said protectively.

"Well," Race began, moving on before the moment could grow any more, "You heard about the violin-playing newsie from Medda's?"

"Yeah, bud, I was there. Really good playah, too. Wonder wheah he learned it."

"Actually…" Cinnamon muttered, holding up her violin. Spot gaped.

"Youse da violinist? Youse got skills!"

Cinnamon blushed in reply. Crutchie stepped forward, ready to put matters into his own hands.

"Well, Spot," he started. "We heard from Race here that there's a female newsie here as well."

"Oh, Punch?" Spot turned and cupped his hands over his mouth in an O. "EEEEEYYYYY, PUNCH! SOMEONE'S HEAH TA SEE YOUSE!"

A short girl (shorter than Spot!) sauntered out of the furthest house to the left. She wore baggy clothes, and she had a sort of hairstyle Cinnamon simply could not find a name for: half of her head was buzzed, while the other half fell down to her shoulder, covering a large purple bruise on her left eye.

"Whaddaya want, Conlon?" she asked. Cinnamon noticed that she spoke with a Southern drawl that nearly brought her words together, yet somehow Cinnamon could understand her.

"Youse ain't the only goil 'round heah," Spot said to Punch. He gestured to Cinnamon, who waved awkwardly. "I'm Cinnamon," she said, stuttering a little out of nervousness.

"So," Punch said, circling Cinnamon, examining her. "How long have you been with the Manhattan newsies?"

"Six years," Cinnamon said. "I've been with them since I was nine."

Punch grunted in approval, then continued to circle Cinnamon, murmuring things like "aristocrat", "reader", and "love interest".

At the last one, Spot raised an eyebrow at Cinnamon. "Love interest?" he mouthed, a catlike smirk forming on his face. Cinnamon mouthed, "Oh, shut up" in harsh reply.

After a moment, Punch straightened and recited: "From what I could see, you were raised in a wealthy family, but your parents vanished somehow, and you wandered the streets for some time. Afterward, you joined the newsies and formed close relationships with Race and Crutchie, Race as a brother, and Crutchie as more." At this observation, Race stifled a laugh, and Spot guffawed. Crutchie frowned at them, and shuffled closer to Cinnamon. Cinnamon looked at Punch, trying to see a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. She found nothing.

"Punch is always like dis," Spot informed the Manhattan newsies. "She can tell just about anything about you by just looking at you." He tried to sneak his arm around her, but he gave him an unexpected (and HARD) jab to the ribs.

"I told you not to do that again, Conlon," she snapped, before gesturing to Cinnamon to come with her. As she picked up her violin case, Spot muttered, "Dis is also why we called 'er Punch. Feisty goil. Like youse probably are." He winked. Cinnamon stuck her tongue out at him and walked in the direction Punch was going. As she was leaving, she turned to see Crutchie and Race waving.

"So, how old are you now, Punch?" Cinnamon asked, twiddling her thumbs. They were both sitting on a bunk in on of the lodging houses. Punch brushed the hair out of her left eye and looked up at the Manhattan newsie. "I turned sixteen yesterday."

"Oh, well happy belated birthday," Cinnamon said. She pulled out her violin and played "Happy Birthday". That pushed a little grin out of the older newsie.

"I turned fifteen in May," Cinnamon said as she put her violin in the case again.

After an awkward silence where neither knew what to say, Cinnamon piped up. "Well, Punch, how long have you been a newsie?"

"Six years, like you."

"Did they know you were a girl the entire time?"

"Yeah, but they had me dress up as a boy in public so I didn't get harassed or anything." Punch responded. "Spot's been chasing me around just about since I got here. Between you and me, I honestly don't mind it." She blushed, and Cinnamon was pleasantly surprised. She didn't think Punch would be the type to blush.

"It's fine with me. As you know, I have a crush of my own…" Cinnamon stood up and balanced on her left leg, her right leg going limp. Punch giggled and said that yes, she knew as soon as she saw how closely positioned the two newsies were.

After some pleasant small talk, Cinnamon asked about the elephant in the room.

"Hey Punch?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you handle your period?" Cinnamon blushed. "I'm sorry to ask, it's just that I'm new to all of it, I only got it just yesterday and –"

"Naw, 'tsall good," Punch replied with a chuckle. "I got mine when I was fourteen. I told the boys, cos I didn't know what to do either. They said that it must be a girl thing, and they took me over to the owner of the nearest pharmacy, who's a woman."

"I had to ask Katherine, Jack's girlfriend," Cinnamon answered with a giggle.

The two unexpected friends continued to chat on and on.

"Say, wheah do ya think Punch and ya goil're at, Crutchie?" Spot asked. "They've been at it foah ovah an hour."

"I dunno," Crutchie replied.

"Maybe something happened…" Race muttered, concerned.

As he said this, Cinnamon and Punch walked out of the Lodging House, chatting and laughing like old pals.

Spot looked genuinely shocked. "She nevah warms up to 'em this fast."

Crutchie noticed Cinnamon nudging Punch, and saying "Tell him, go on! You can do it!" and Punch was blushing furiously and staring at the floor.

When they finally reached the boys, Punch walked up to Spot, taking a deep breath. She seemed to compose herself, then spoke.

"Spot Conlon." She spoke with a sort of rigidity that Crutchie recognized as the kind you use when you're nervous. Spot jolted to attention.

"I have one thing to do that'll probably explain everything for you," she said. Crutchie held his breath, expecting a slap or something.

Punch moved toward Spot, and Crutchie flinched –

But she didn't hit him.

She kissed him.

Spot looked as surprised as literally every newsie stared, shocked, at the uncharacteristic act. Punch broke the kiss, and then ran away, red as a tomato.

"Wait up!" Spot yelled as he chased after the newsie. As they ran off together, Crutchie heard, "I'll write to you, Cinnamoooon!"

"We should probably leave them alone, huh?" Cinnamon laughed as she took the hands of her best friends and turned to head home.

::::

All the newsies were in the Lodging House a few hours later, full from dinner and chatting lazily about their day. Cinnamon was about to ask Mush about how many papers he sold when Jack and Katherine barged in.

"Gathering at Medda's! She let us have the theater tonight!" Jack hollered.

The newsies rejoiced gleefully. "Yeah, but what for?" Bumlets shouted from the corner of the room as he "played" Fifty-two Card Pickup.

"Talent show!" Katherine exclaimed. "Come on, there's no time to waste!"

An extremely energetic sprint to the theater later, the newsies were all in their seats as Medda stood on the stage. The theater seemed full; even some of the other newsie groups showed up!

"All right Manhattan newsies," she called. "When your name is called, you come up to the stage and do your act. When you're done, go back to your seat. 'Kay?"

There were murmurs of agreement from the front rows of the theater where the Manhattan newsies sat.

Then the show began. Each newsie had a talent, whether it was big or small, silly or serious. Davey wowed the audience with a technically perfect piano performance. Race could do tongue twisters without skipping a beat. Jack drew Elmer nearly immaculately while blindfolded. Jojo tucked in his ears (somehow, he did). Romeo chose armpit farting as his talent and got heckled offstage. Finch shot an apple off of Button's head with a slingshot. Les performed some magic tricks he learned from Davey.

When Cinnamon went onstage, she did ran a small obstacle course while playing "Oh Susannah" at top speed on her violin. When she jogged back to her seat, Crutchie patted her on the arm.  
"You did great," he beamed.

After a moment, it came to Crutchie. The house went quieter than usual as the cripple hobbled onto the stage, biting his lip out of nervousness.

"So, Crutchie," Medda announced. "What will you be doing for us tonight?"

"Um," Crutchie began, his bum leg twitching. "I'm going to… going to…" he seemed to choke on his words. Cinnamon could tell that whatever he was going to do, he had never done it in public.

"Yes?" Medda urged.

"Tonight…" Crutchie continued, mustering up his courage. "I'm going to sing."

A murmur passed through the crowd as Crutchie tugged over the piano and two stools.

"I'll need Davey and Cinnamon for this, though."

As Cinnamon stood up, reaching for her violin case, Crutchie mouthed, " _No violin_." Cinnamon walked up the aisle with Davey, confused, as she thought, _What does he want me to do, then?_

As she sat down on the stool, and Davey sat at he piano, Crutchie said, "Tonight, Davey will be accompanying us on the piano, and Cinnamon will be singing with me."

Cinnamon tried to stand up as if to get off the stage, but Crutchie held her arm and whispered, "Please?" So she sat back down. I mean, how could she resist him?

Crutchie went over and whispered to Davey, then leaned over and whispered to Cinnamon. She could feel his breath tickling her ear for just a moment before he sat back down. He gestured to Davey, who began to play. Crutchie took a breath, then began to sing. The entire theater went completely silent. Even Medda seemed intrigued.

" **Wise men say**

 **Only fools rush in.**

 **But I can't help falling in love with you.**

 **Should I stay?**

 **Would it be a sin**

 **If I can't help falling in love with you?** "

As he sang this, he looked at Cinnamon, a soft smile spreading like butter on his face. Cinnamon felt herself blushing as she smiled back at him. She knew that she had to carry on his tune and sang the next verse. As she did so, she could tell that it was just her, Crutchie, and the music.

 _"Like a river flows_

 _Surely to the sea_

 _Darling, so it goes_

 _Some things are meant to be."_

The theater remained silent, as starstruck with her voice as they were with Crutchie's. When she neared the end of the verse, she took Crutchie's hand, and a collective gasp rose from the room. Davey glanced back to see what all the commotion was about, and he fumbled a note out of surprise when he saw the reason. Embarrassed, he turned back to the piano. Cinnamon continued,

 _"Take my hand,_

 _Take my whole life too,_

 _For I can't help falling in love with you."_

Crutchie's smile grew bigger as they shared a verse:

" **Like a river flows**

 **Surely to the sea**

 _Darling, so it goes,_

 _Some things are meant to be._

 **Take my hand,**

 _Take my whole life too,_

 ** _For I can't help falling in love with you.*_** _"_

The two harmonized on the last line of the song as they drew closer to each other. Cinnamon never noticed how Crutchie's smile was just the perfect amount of lopsided, and she had never noticed how soft his hand was on her cheek.

" ** _For I can't help falling in love with you._** _"_

Their lips met as the song ended. They didn't care who was watching. All they cared about was each other.

Around the theater, people were going crazy. Jack's eyes grew as wide as wagon wheels, while Katherine smiled faintly, remembering her first kiss with Jack. Davey gaped. Les screamed, "OH MY GOD!" while Race stood up in his seat and screamed, "ATTA BOY!" Most of the Manhattan Newsies stared in surprise, while the rest of them cheered encouragingly.

As Crutchie and Cinnamon pulled deeper into the kiss, their arms wrapped around each other as if it were their only lifeline to each other, the other newsies chattered, confused. All they saw was a boy kissing another boy intensely onstage. Crutchie swept Cinnamon up and hugged her even closer to his chest.

And then Cinnamon's cap fell off, letting her hair (which she had, again, forgot to cut that afternoon) fall free around her neck.

Then entire theater went silent as the realization fell upon them. The realization that it wasn't a boy kissing another boy. It was a GIRL kissing a boy.

Some of them stood up, whooping, while the others just sat dumbfounded.

When the lovestruck newsies pulled apart, they held hands as they walked offstage to hoots and wolf whistles.

"Come on, Mona," Crutchie whispered, smiling. He gave Cinnamon a quick kiss on the forehead as he wrapped his arm around her. "Let's go to the Lodging house."

"My thoughts exactly," the girl newsie replied as they left as fast as they were able and headed towards the Lodging House, chatting excitedly.

But as they did so, they didn't notice two stocky shadows, one slightly taller than the other, in an alley with wicked smiles on their faces.

"Did you catch that, brother?" one snarled.

"Sure did, and I can't wait to get my newest pair of brass knuckles out for 'em," the other growled, his ever-growing smile growing more and more dangerous by the second. Their eyes glinted with evil plans as they watched the two unknowing newsies walked through the door of the Lodging House together.

The Delanceys were on their trail.

 _(*When the text is bold AND in italics, they're singing together.)_


	10. TIME FOR A VOTE! WOOHOO!

Hey guys!

So I've been thinking of writing a Modern Newsies High School/College Boarding School AU (yeah, short name, huh?) sometime soon. But the question that has been haunting my dreams is...

SHOULD I HAVE CINNAMON IN THE FANFIC?

I really love her character and I want to put her in it, but at the same time I'm thinking, "ehhh, maybe I shouldn't..." but who would Katherine room with? lol

If you want her to be in it, comment "yes". And if you DON'T want her to be in it, also type "yes". NAH I'M KIDDING. Type "no" if you don't want her in it.

Now I must leave you.

*disappears in a flurry of newspapers as you hear "Go and look it up the poor GUY'S head is spinning"*


	11. Update (April 14 2019)

Hey guys! Don't worry, I'm still alive. :)

I know I haven't posted a new chapter of Something There in a heck of a long time (almost a year, I think). School has been extremely hectic this year, and I haven't found much time to write at all.

Fortunately, I'm working on a new chapter of Something There and I have a new project in the works and I'm super excited to share it with you all!

However, I'm not completely sure where my Newsies AU fic is going. I started writing a chapter a few months ago, but then writer's block kicked in. And then there was a _writing slump_. I really had no ideas for a while and I had trouble finding any time. AT ALL.(I know, it sucks.) I'll try to get back to working on the fic and if all goes according to plan, the first chapter will be up soon! (Spoiler: It's a High School AU! And yes, Cinnamon's a part of this AU!)

I hope I haven't left you guys hanging for too long.

Sincerely,

Cloud.


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 **Heyyyyy. Sorry about the delay, I had a lot of school to do.**

 **Warning!: So this chapter contains some violence, just so you know. I hope you don't mind.**

"You did nice tonight," Crutchie muttered to Cinnamon as she nuzzled into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"You too, Crutch," she mumbled back, adjusting her nightclothes. They were both seated on his bed, and Crutchie blushed as he felt her soft fluffy hair grazing her neck. He tilted his head down and kissed her forehead. Elmer, whose bed was above Crutchie's, leaned upside-down from it and waggled his eyebrows. Crutchie shooed him away good-naturedly, and he was glad that Cinnamon hadn't been disturbed by this quick moment.

"Hey!" Specs shouted, which disturbed both Cinnamon and Crutchie. "Katherine showed up with warm cookies for everyone!"

There was a big break for the door, which almost made Specs get trampled by a large stampede of adolescent boys. Crutchie and Cinnamon were the only ones remaining in the room after a few seconds.

"You wanna go down?"

"Not hungry," Cinnamon said.

"To be honest, me neither," said Crutchie.

"Guess we're all by ourselves, huh?" Cinnamon smiled as she looked up at Crutchie.

"Yeah," Crutchie responded.

"What now, then?" Cinnamon asked Crutchie. He just closed the small space between them and kissed her. He could feel her leaning in ever so slightly, and he really liked that. They kissed for a little while, and when they finally pulled apart, they were both blushing intensely.

"Gosh, Mona," Crutchie sighed as he took Cinnamon's hand. "If I could make time stop and preserve this moment for us forever, I definitely would."

"Me too, Crutchie," Cinnamon whispered. She rested her head on his lap, and Crutchie held in his breath. At this moment, Jack and Race walked into the room, and they quieted at the sight of Cinnamon in Crutchie's lap.

"Damn it, Crutchie," Cinnamon breathed as she closed her eyes, too sleepy to see any newsie other than the one right in front of her. "I think I'm in love with you."

Crutchie felt her relax, and he knew she had fallen asleep. Race smiled involuntarily, and Jack smiled at the memory of when he and Katherine had their first kiss.

Crutchie kissed the sleeping girl and whispered, "I love you too," even though he knew she couldn't hear him anymore. Trying not to wake her, Crutchie tucked Cinnamon into his bed and lied down beside her. He held her close to him, resting her head on his chest. He fell asleep soon after.

As the two in-love newsies slept, Race and Jack looked at each other and smiled.

"They're perfect for each other, don'tcha think Race?" Jack asked his friend.

"Definitely," Race responded.

:::::

Crutchie woke up to Cinnamon's peaceful face inches from his. He grinned, remembering the night before. He looked around to see if anyone was awake yet. No one was. Seems as if the bell hadn't rung yet.

He sat in serene silence for a few minutes, and then there was a loud CLANGGGGGG from outside. The morning bell. All around him, Crutchie could see newsies stirring and getting up from their beds.

"You're awake," a quiet voice from beside him mumbled. A tanned, freckled hand reached up and pawed lightly at his shoulder. Cinnamon sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes. "Mornin'."

"Good morning, Cinnamon," Crutchie responded as he got out of bed and hopped to his crutch. As he tucked it under his arm, Cinnamon stumbled out of bed.

"Time to hit the streets!" Jack shouted from the other side of the room. At this, the newsies began to hustle. Pulling on his vest and helping Cinnamon with hers (she had nearly put it on backwards, cause she was still a bit sleepy), he wished for a good day.

Unfortunately, not all wishes come true.

"C'mon!" Crutchie said to Cinnamon as they grabbed their papers from Weisel and hurried to their usual selling spot. For the first half hour, everything was going well. Then, two pairs of hands pulled the two newsies into an alley next to their favorite park bench.

"What the heck?-" Cinnamon blurted.

"Shut up," someone sneered. A young man emerged from the shadows sporting brass knuckles. Crutchie gave a small gasp. _Morris Delancey_.

"Scared, huh?" Morris said wickedly as Cinnamon hid her quivering hands.

"Leave us alone-" she began.

"You shut your mouth, little lady," Morris snapped. Cinnamon and Crutchie shared a terrifying glance.

"Yeah, I know about your girlfriend," the Delancey laughed. "And we're planning to have a real good time with her…"

Morris's brother, Oscar, stepped out from behind Cinnamon and grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the wall. Cinnamon yelped. "Get your filthy mitts off of me!"

" You would like that, wouldn't you?" Oscar snickered as he tried to lean in and kiss her, grabbing at her shirt, trying to unbutton it. Cinnamon tried to use her now free arm to knife-hand Morris in the ribs, which put him off, but not for long. Morris, now more determined than ever, leaned in again. The attempted kiss turned into a sort of slobber across Cinnamon's cheek as Crutchie whacked him where the sun don't shine with his crutch. Morris slowly turned away from Cinnamon and towards Crutchie. "And whaddaya think you're doing, ya lousy bum?" Morris tilted his head toward Oscar in a signal, and Oscar jabbed Crutchie, leaving him defenseless for a quick moment. In that short moment, Oscar was able to steal Crutchie's crutch from under him and knocking him to the floor. Cinnamon screamed loud, hoping someone heard her, and she screamed loud, Crutchie's pain jolting through her with every _whack!_ as the Delanceys beat her friend over and over with his very own crutch to the point where it splintered and broke.

When no one showed up for a little while, and when Cinnamon was done recovering, she went to help Crutchie. She kicked the two in the back, which caused Oscar and Morris to turn on her instead. Cinnamon fought them off best she could as Crutchie feebly cried for help and the two brothers pinned her against the wall, not seeming to back down.

After a while that seemed like forever, Cinnamon heard a voice that practically made her heart sing with hope.

"Hey, I suggest you leave these two alone." Davey stood in the mouth of the alley along with Race, Jack and Les. They rushed in and dragged the Delanceys out of the alley, and Les ran to alert the nearest police station. Cinnamon, shirt unbuttoned and torn to the point where her chest bind was showing, stumbled to Crutchie and clung to him for dear life as he panted and tried to stabilize himself.

"What were they doing?" Race snarled, watching the two brothers run away.

"They know, Race. They know about me. So they took us here and tried to…" Cinnamon couldn't bring herself to say what they tried to do, but she simply gestured to her shirt and Race understood.

"My god," Davey muttered. "They ARE evil."

"And then Crutchie tried to protect me," Cinnamon continued, starting to choke up, "but they turned on him and started beating him up with his crutch so much that it broke, and then I tried to get them off of Crutchie, but they tried to molest me again…" At this point Davey, Jack and Race were seething with silent fury towards the Delanceys. Cinnamon, remembering Crutchie, got on her knees and cradled the bruised and bloody boy in her arms.

"It's okay," she whispered, trying to convince herself it was true. "They're gone now. It's okay." He looked up at her, too dazed to speak. Then he passed out, with no more strength to go on in that moment.

Cinnamon gasped in fright, and the newsies rushed to her side. Davey leaned down and put his ear on Crutchie's chest, where his heart was.

"Is he dead?" she asked, fearing one of the two possible answers.

"No," Davey responded, as shaken as Cinnamon was. "But it's possible he could have been in a few minutes if no one came to save him."

Jack crawled forward to look at Crutchie, and Cinnamon noticed that tears rolled freely down his face. Cinnamon had never seen him cry before.  
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here earlier," Jack said to the unconscious Crutchie, wiping away his tears. "None of this should have ever happened."

"We're going to have to get a medic," Davey informed them, his face pale.

"Yeah," Race muttered. Then he turned to Cinnamon. "Cinnamon, I'm sorry."

"At least he's alive," Cinnamon said, looking at Crutchie. Even in this state, there was something peaceful about his features. He looked as if he was only asleep. "He's alive, that's what matters. Thank you a million times for showing up."

She got up and hugged Davey and Jack, and gave Race a small kiss on the cheek, which caused him to blush a little. "Thank you," Cinnamon repeated.

"Now, let's get this boy back to the Lodging House."


End file.
